


always

by miiniwa



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, birthday fic for mao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miiniwa/pseuds/miiniwa
Summary: —and he can’t help but smile at the fact that Ritsu had tried to stay up late enough to tell him ‘happy birthday’ — a tradition that would always fall just a little bit short.





	always

**Author's Note:**

> I'M LA T E, BUT happy birthday to best boy Mao, you deserve everything that is warm and soft and wholesome in this world

Past four, with the sunlight turning more orange, more warm, Mao is standing in front of the shoe lockers with the rest of Trickstar by his side, just barely listening to Subaru and Makoto arguing about where they should eat on the way home.

 

 

_I think mom wanted me to buy flour and sugar before going back_ , Mao thinks to himself, distracted as he’s slipping on his outdoor shoes.

 

 

He flinches at the sudden poke on his back, and he turns around quickly, mouth already open to yell at either Subaru or Makoto for catching him off guard, before he sees Ritsu there, looking sleepy, as usual.

 

 

“Maa-kun, I’ll be coming over today,” Ritsu declares, calmly, as Mao raises a brow.

 

 

“Um? Sure. If you want, we can walk back right now,” Mao offers, side glancing over at the others, to see that they had started interrogating Hokuto about whose choice was better.

 

 

Ritsu shakes his head, fringe swaying softly along with his movements, and Mao almost reaches out to fix it, on instinct.

 

 

“Can’t, Knights has things to do. But I’ll be there later. Definitely,” Ritsu says, unusually persistent, which Mao decides not to question.

 

 

“Fine by me,” Mao replies, smiling lightly.

 

 

Ritsu nods, as some sort of affirmation, before he turns and heads off in the direction of the practice room.

 

 

It’s one of the few instances where Mao thinks that it seems as if they’re becoming more independent of one another, although he eventually convinces himself that it’s a good thing, especially with the way Ritsu is.

 

 

‘ _Lonely_ ,’ is a word that comes to mind, but he quickly shakes his head, stepping forward towards the rest of his unit, who had somehow finally decided to just eat at the usual fast food place that they almost always go to.

 

 

_So he’s going to try again this year_ , Mao thinks to himself, as he’s walking with the others, recalling what day it is, before breathing out slowly, and feeling strangely warm.

 

 

…

 

 

…

 

 

…

 

 

It’s around ten at night when Ritsu shows up at his place, freshly showered and carrying his school bag and uniform, since they’ll most likely just walk to school in the morning together.

 

 

“I say this every time, but do you _have_ to come in through the window at night?” Mao sighs, heart still beating a little fast at the fact that there had been a loud noise at his window while he had just been at his desk, quietly and peacefully studying.

 

 

“It’s more fun this way,” Ritsu says simply, already making himself comfy at his bed.

 

 

“In what way?” Mao questions, dull.

 

 

“Your reactions,” Ritsu tells him, smiling softly, as Mao sighs again, stepping towards him.

 

 

He motions for Ritsu to make room for him, watching as Ritsu slowly and lazily rolls towards the other side.

 

 

“Wait— hey, you didn’t dry your hair yet,” Mao frowns, instantly walking off before he comes back with a clean towel in hand, with Ritsu smiling fondly all the while, because he feels as if it’s been a while since he’s slept over.

 

 

Mao spends a good five minutes drying off Ritsu’s hair before slinging the towel over the chair at his desk, breathing out tiredly as he finally lies down in his bed next to him, pretending that he’s not affected by the happy glint in Ritsu’s eyes.

 

 

“Can I turn off the lights?” Mao asks, already reaching towards the switch.

 

 

“Ah, wait, what time is it?” Ritsu questions.

 

 

“What does that have to do with”— Mao pauses, remembering why Ritsu had probably been so insistent on coming over, before he presses the button on his phone.

 

 

“Almost eleven,” he tells him, switching off the lights without waiting for Ritsu to say anything else about it.

 

 

Mao settles himself on his back, with the outline of Ritsu just barely visible in the dark, because he usually keeps his room devoid of light at night.

 

 

“How was practice?” Mao asks, hands placed comfortably over his stomach.

 

 

“The same,” Ritsu shrugs, with Mao being clearly aware of the warm nudge at his shoulder.

 

 

“My mom made me buy flour and sugar before going home today. She’s probably going to make a cake for tomorrow,” Mao remarks, rolling his eyes at the more persistent nudging at his shoulder, before he quietly turns onto his side, feeling familiar warm snuggling against him almost instantly.

 

 

“I’ll sleep over tomorrow too,” Ritsu tells him, speaking against his sweater.

 

 

“Sure,” Mao replies, and they continue like that — making small talk before falling asleep, like they almost always do, and it’s one of those small reminders that he’s in love, and that it’s something that makes him almost too happy.

 

 

“You changed your shampoo?” Mao points out, just then taking note of how his scent is slightly different than usual, more noticeable now with how close they are in proximity.

 

 

“Secchan gave me one that he got from modeling,” Ritsu mutters back, eyes already closed.

 

 

“Hmm,” Mao hums back, thinking that it’s a nice and slightly rosy scent, and he nearly falls asleep there, almost forgetting to check the time, for Ritsu’s sake.

 

 

He looks at his phone again, having to blink constantly before he reads ‘11:55.’

 

 

_But Ritsu’s already asleep_ , Mao realizes, and he can’t help but smile at the fact that Ritsu had tried to stay up late enough to tell him ‘happy birthday’ — a tradition that would always fall just a little bit short.

 

 

In the end, he still appreciates it, because it means that he’s not alone.

 

 

_Good night, Ricchan_ , he quietly ruffles his hair, warm and sweetly scented with the new shampoo he had used, before falling asleep shortly after.

 

 

…

 

 

…

 

 

…

 

 

Mao wakes up at his usual time in the morning, blinking languidly at the sound of his phone’s alarm before he turns it off, yawning.

 

 

Ritsu is still comfortably pressed against him, and Mao vaguely wonders if they had been like that for the entire night.

 

 

_Then again, it was only a few hours_ , Mao notes, recalling that they had gone to sleep late, and he’s unsure if he’ll be able to make it through the whole day.

 

 

“Ricchan, it’s morning,” Mao states, gently poking at the boy’s fringe, watching as Ritsu sleepily leans back, eyes still pressed shut.

 

 

“I didn’t get to tell you happy birthday at midnight this time either, huh,” Ritsu says, struggling to wake himself up a bit more.

 

 

“Nope,” Mao replies, as Ritsu looks at him with a somewhat stubborn pout on his face.

 

 

“But you’ll have next year to try again,” Mao points out, smiling, as Ritsu stares at him thoughtfully.

 

 

“And the year after that,” Ritsu adds, falling back against him.

 

 

“And the year after that, too,” Mao mutters, holding onto him, and for about half a second, he contemplates skipping morning classes for that day.

 

 

“Anyway”— Mao snaps, quickly sitting up, face slightly pink when he realizes how affectionate they’re being in the early morning.

 

 

“We have to get ready for school,” Mao tells him sternly, standing up from the bed.

 

 

“Maa-kun,” Ritsu calls out, grabbing onto his hand, and Mao turns to face him, mostly reluctant.

 

 

“What is it?” He asks him, hand feeling warm.

 

 

“Happy birthday, Maa-kun,” Ritsu tells him, smiling, and likely knowing full well of how embarrassed Mao feels about it all.

 

 

“Thanks,” Mao says, before sighing loudly, aware that his face had probably turned red at that point, because without really having to think about it, he knows that he wouldn’t mind things being just like that, every year, with him.

**Author's Note:**

> there's probably a dumb typo or two hiding out somewhere because i didn't write this out until a couple hours ago, but it was nice to ritsumao again ?? even though it's really short ;; /quietly melts
> 
> https://twitter.com/kuuroken


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